


All The Pieces

by DittyWrites



Series: Birds of Gay (2020) [2]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Humor, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Painplay, Orgasm, Scarring, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: “You can make the mark if you want to.” Looking up to meet Romans’ gaze, he continued. “It was your kill after all.”Tilting his head as he finished his drink and placed the glass down gently next to the mirror, Romans’ murderous look had settled into something less dangerous yet somehow more intense.“I suppose it was.” He drew out slowly, surveying Victor up and down with interested eyes.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Series: Birds of Gay (2020) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629667
Comments: 63
Kudos: 556





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Took me a whole two days to make smut for this stupid fucking film, a new personal record by the way, and i really hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy looking at Ewan McGregor styled for the gods.
> 
> I may upload a part two to give a conclusion to this part but it really depends on how this one is received because i have a to-do list longer than a Leonard Cohen song and i can't really sacrifice any time xx

Examining his naked torso in the large vanity mirror which Roman used for his morning routine, Victor twisted in position as he sought out the perfect location for his latest addition. Pulling the waistband of his dark boxers down an inch, there was a patch of untouched flesh there he could use but the position was awkward and would take an irritating amount of time to heal.

Behind him, splayed out on his favourite red velvet chaise lounge with a vodka martini clutched in one hand, was Roman and he watched the whole ritual with open fascination. Over the years together he had witnessed Victors’ scarring ritual more times than he could count and yet he never grew bored of watching the scarring of his skin catch the low lighting as the man himself selected the optimal space for a new addition.

“Does it even hurt anymore?”

Roman had asked the question without thought, voicing his musings as he adjusted his silk robe across his own bare torso.

“It never did.” Victor admitted, catching Romans’ eye in the reflection of the mirror. “Even at the start.”

“Bullshit. Cutting lines into your body doesn’t hurt?” Roman took a swig of his drink. “Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. It doesn’t feel like anything. If anything, it feels good. Feels right, you know?”

“No, I fucking don’t.” Protesting the point, Roman stood up and padded his feet through the plush carpeting to stand before Victor with a look of disbelief. “How can that feel good?”

“It just does,” Victor shrugged before a very wicked idea arose in his mind, “you can try it if you want.”

Roman barked with laughter.

“Me? Cut up this body?” Roman opened up his robe, putting everything on display without shame. “Do you know how much time and fucking money I have spent getting this body where it is?” He continued to chuckle as he brought his glass to his mouth again and took a long sip.

Refraining from an eye roll but taking the time appreciate the free show, Victor clarified his meaning.

“I meant on me, Roman.”

The use of the first name was a careful choice to show he wasn’t kidding.

The smile immediately faded from Romans’ face as his breath audibly hitched, and Victor could see the fingers tighten around the martini glass in his hand.

Oh, _interesting_.

“Do you want to do it?” Victor asked again, amused by the unexpected reaction.

“Yes,” Roman agreed, regaining his composure as he carded a hand through his thick hair, “I think I do.”

Reaching across the vanity table, Roman picked up the small sterilised scalpel which Victor used religiously in his ritual. It could never be any old knife to do the trick. It had to be this scalpel. If there was a story there, Roman had yet to hear it.

But first he had to be sure.

“Are you fucking with me?”

Roman’s voice held a calm nonchalance which Victor immediately recognised the danger in. Roman was not a calm individual and his calm always preceded a storm which would rage violently if the answers he received were not to his liking.

The scalpel glinted in the low light of the room, the scalpel which has taken more lives than even Victor himself could probably count, and this single instrument had seen more pain and fear than most people could possibly comprehend.

But Victor was not afraid.

“I never fuck with you.” Victor countered and his words were sincere. He killed for Roman without a moment’s hesitation, he dedicated himself to making sure that he was not only comfortable but also safe from harm. He would never, could never, fuck Roman over.

“You can make the mark if you want to.” Looking up to meet Romans’ gaze, he continued. “It was your kill after all.”

Tilting his head as he finished his drink and placed the glass down gently next to the mirror, Romans’ murderous look had settled into something less dangerous yet somehow more intense.

“I suppose it was.” He drew out slowly, surveying Victor up and down with interested eyes.

At the attention, Victor felt himself grow hard within the confines of his leather trousers and he regretted not taking them off before starting this little game.

“So where do you want it?” Roman asked, his silk robe still fully open, exposing the matching silk boxers beneath and it wasn’t hard to see his own growing hardness through the thin material.

“Right here.” Victor indicated the small, unblemished area with the point of his finger.

Two inches above his nipple.

The closest available space to his heart.

Roman muttered something which sounded suspiciously like ‘fucking romantic’ but he quickly pushed his robe out behind him and slipped atop Victors’ lap.

At the sudden pressure on his groin, Victor let slip a growl which had Romans’ eyebrow cocking up in surprise.

“Down, boy.” His tone was teasing but Victor could tell he was pleased with the reaction as Roman continued to lean forward until their chests were pressed together so he could growl back into Victors’ ear, “And don’t bleed out on my fucking rug.”

Smirking at the demand, Victor gave a feral smile.

“No promises.”

Running the dull edge of the scalpel down Victors’ defined collarbone, Roman was determined to make a show of this achievement and he took his time to trace out a few of the older scars, some brilliant white and some faded with time.

“Here we go.” Visibly biting his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated, Roman placed the tip of the scalpel against Victors’ skin on the area which has been selected. Fighting back a smile as he saw goosebumps rise at the point of origin, he took a small breath before pushing the sharp edge of the blade into the flesh deeply enough to guarantee a scar.

Victor grunted and it was difficult to tell if it was in pain or pleasure as the knife made its first incision and Roman paused to take in the small sound as a shiver of desire trickled down his spine.

“Keep going.” Victor demanded; his calm voice unusually rough with thinly veiled lust. “Finish it.”

Pulling the knife through the pale flesh slowly, Roman was engrossed in the intimacy of the task as he watched the skin separate only for the newly created divot to be immediately filled with blood as he continued to carve along a thin line, matching those around it. As he worked, a low rumble seemed to originate from within Victors’ chest and Roman could feel the strength of the vibrations through his fingers.

The continual sting of the fresh cutting only served to heighten the arousal which Victor was trying to keep in check. Now painfully hard, every slight jostle of Roman against him was a torture far worse than the severing of his skin. He always liked a bit of pain to go with his pleasure and Roman was always more than happy to comply, but this was new.

“Finished!” Roman announced with a flourish, dropping the scalpel to the floor and leaning back slightly to admire his work. “Isn’t it perfect?”

Tilting his head down, Victors’ attention was immediately drawn from the bleeding cut on his chest to the prominent bulge of Romans’ boxers, the silk long having given up the battle to disguise anything.

In the silence, Victor realised that Roman was actually waiting for an answer.

“Perfect.”

Running a finger along the incision, Roman collected some of the blood on his finger and dragged it down Victors’ chest, the ridges of the wild scarring making an interesting sensation against his fingertips as he paused to swirl the blood around Victors’ rapidly hardening nipple.

A rough hand came to rest against the back of Romans’ neck, and he found himself pulled forward in a brutal kiss. Teeth clashed and the taste of blood quickly coated their tongues, but neither was certain who exactly it belonged to. If anyone else had handled him in such a way they would find their hand removed and rammed down their throat before they could even think about their actions.

But not Victor.

The metallic scent of Victors’ blood mixed with the natural musk of the other was intoxicating to both, spurning them on as Romans’ hands cupped around Victors’ head. His fingers grazed the short buzzcut and he refused to let up their kiss as he held him in place and ground into his lap with renewed fervour.

“Roman, you’re killing me here.” Breaking the kiss, Victor rested his hands on Romans’ hips in a surprisingly gentle grip, splaying his fingers and marvelling at how soft his skin was beneath his calloused hands.

“Bed. Now.” Roman demanded hoarsely, giving a final harsh grind into Victors’ lap to force the man into action. “Someone needs fucked and they need fucked right now.”

“That you or me?” Victor asked wryly, unable to move until Roman removed himself from his lap.

With a wolfish grin, Roman slid off his lap and discarded his robe on the floor as he moved around to stand behind Victor, once again making eye contact through the mirror as he leaned over to murmur in Victors’ ear.

“Watch your mouth or I’ll pick that scalpel back up and really give you something to scream over.”

At the threat, a hand made itself known on Victors’ groin and he groaned at the direct contact as he tipped his head backwards and started to nip at the warm skin of Romans’ jaw with his sharp teeth.

“You could try, boss.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was whipped up while at a friends house watching Dario Argento movies. So yeah, there's maybe some sneaky influence there but i'll be fucked if i can find it! Please enjoy 💕 
> 
> As always, feedback is genuinely appreciated and let's me know if an idea/pairing/theme is worth sticking with over time xx

Hands flying to his belt as he stood from his seated position, Victor made quick work of removing his slacks as Roman stood behind him, amused by the urgency. His own boxers were similar to Romans’, mostly due to Romans’ insistence that silk was much more comfortable than cotton and his insistence had even extended to filling Victors’ own wardrobe with clothing which was befitting his right hand.

Roman did, however, indulge Victors’ love for ugly bowling shirts since it had always been an integral part of his aesthetic, even before they had met. The quality of said shirts had improved dramatically though.

As Roman backed his towards the bed, leading Victor on with a beckoning finger, Victor moved more slowly to appreciate the sight.

Custom-designed to Romans’ specifications, the four-poster bed had been carved from a wood so dark it was practically black and the bedding had been imported from Italy after its style caught Roman on a whim. A deep blackened red, it was threaded through with bolts of a vivid shade of chartreuse which caught the light fantastically. Thick, blackout curtains were drawn around the canopy, a necessity for Roman to be able to sleep through the morning to maintain his business at night.

Victor had his own room next door, mostly a necessity for him to store his belongings and trophies, but the bed had remained untouched for some time. Romans’ bed was far more comfortable, and Victor doubted he would be allowed to return to his room anyway.

Not that he wanted to, not with Roman looking at him with an openly hungry stare as he stood by the bed, awaiting Victor to join him.

Crossing the distance between them and placing his hand on Romans’ bare chest, Victor paused for a moment to feel the warmth beneath his palm before slamming it forward in a hard shove. he watched with satisfaction as the action caught Roman off-guard and sent him sprawling atop the bed with a surprised grunt.

Roman, to his credit, regained control quickly.

“Stop fucking around and get on here, now.” He demanded.

Victor followed the instructions quickly, crawling atop the bed and straddling Roman comfortably.

One of Romans’ hands came to rest behind his head to prop it up and he surveyed Victor hovering above him with wicked intent. The other hand slid up Victors’ chest and came to rest against his neck, his thumb gently stroking down the slight divot at the base of his throat.

“What do I get for helping you? Do I get a thanks?”

Leaning into the touch, Victor allowed Roman full access to his most vulnerable area in an open display of trust as he answered.

“You can fuck me.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” Roman countered with a smirk, “but I think I deserve something else.”

“Anything for you, boss.”

Romans’ hand moved higher as he pressed a thumb against Victors’ lips and Victor didn’t hesitate to open his mouth and nip at the pad of his finger. Suppressing a shudder at the action, Roman took the opportunity to hook his finger against Victors’ teeth and lead his head down until it was in line with the obvious tent in his boxers.

“Good boy.”

Shuffling down so that he was kneeling between Romans’ legs, Victor hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of his boxers and shifted them lower until the full length of Romans’ hard shaft was exposed. Taking the base of his cock in hand, he gave it a few firm strokes to ensure that it was fully hard before he started.

Above him, Roman swallowed back a moan as the textured scarring on Victors’ hand added an extra layer of intensity to the building tension within him.

Victors’ trained hearing picked up the soft sound and, wanting to capitalise on the moment, dipped his head down and welcomed the tip of Romans’ cock into his warm mouth. The familiarity of it was welcome and he savoured the moment as thin hips attempted to buck against him as he hungrily went to work.

His tongue danced its way along Romans’ bloated head, only pausing to swirl around the sensitive ridge as his lips worked in rhythm with his hand to ensure that no part of the shaft was left unstimulated.

“That feels fucking fantastic,” Roman groaned, continuing to thrust his hips up to meet Victor’s insistent lips, “Fuck you’re so good to me.”

At the praise, Victor felt a slight flush as his cock twitched in response and he grasped the bedsheet at the side of Romans’ hip, leaving a dark stain across the chartreuse as some of the dried blood from his hand transferred.

“You better replace those sheets.” Roman growled, momentarily distracted as he took in the bloody mess which Victors’ clenched grip had left on his expensive bedding.

Rolling his eye in defiance, Victor dipped his head down again to ghost his lips along Romans’ inner thigh, gently teasing the skin there knowing that it was a particularly sensitive spot. He was rewarded with a full-bodied shudder from Roman as he widened his thighs further to provide better access.

Victor accepted the invitation as he continued his onslaught on Romans’ thighs only moving on to lick a salacious line up the groove of his groin. Roman tended to keep himself neatly trimmed but Victor had always preferred him a little unkempt, it showed the lack of control which he knew the other man needed to keep himself sane. The tickle of Romans’ pubic hair against his nose, he bit lightly at the groove where groin met thigh as his stroking hand kept Romans’ cock upright and allowed him to continue his ministrations.

“Quit teasing you bastard.” Roman gasped harshly, catching his breath and any follow-up he had died in his throat- replaced with an animalistic groan- as Victor swallowed him down again.

Intoxicated by the noises and movements he was able to pull from Roman; Victor could feel the small beads of pre-cum on the tip of his cock smearing messily over his stomach as it lay pressed between himself and the bed. However, his attention was completely focused on his insatiable need to make Roman come undone, to force this beautifully callous and sadistic man to moan his name.

“Fucking hell, Victor.” Sounding agonized, Roman was happy to indulge as he repeated Victors’ name with varying levels of frenzied desire as he neared his end.

The sleek thighs beneath his hand tensed dangerously and Victor knew that Roman wouldn’t last much longer. Removing his hand from the base of Romans’ cock, he slipped his mouth further down the painfully hard length and took it all in one smooth movement; his nose brushing against the trimmed hair once again as his throat relaxed against the invader.

The effect was instantaneous as Romans’ hand made itself known on Victors’ head, the fingers pushing against his buzzcut almost painfully as Roman held him in place as he bucked against his accepting mouth as he was expertly deep-throated.

Already at the point, this manoeuvre was enough to send Roman over the edge in style and a low cry tore itself from his throat as he came. Dark spots flashed before his eyes and he felt a soft crack in one of his toes from how tightly they were curled. Beneath him and holding steadfast against the violent orgasm, Victor continued to massage his cock with his throat as he came; milking him and swallowing everything he was given for as long as it took Romans’ orgasm to finally die out, leaving small aftershocks of pleasure rolling through his boss and lover as he shuddered.

Shuffling back onto his knees, Victor gently pulled back from Romans’ cock and allowed the softening shaft to relax as it glistened in the low lighting of the room.

Victor took the opportunity to roll off to the side and slip up the bed to lie by Romans’ side as he continued to ignore his own raging hardness.

“Thank you.” He offered sincerely, seeking out Romans’ hand as his dark-haired lover recovered from the mind-blowing blowjob. Connecting their fingers, he ran their joined fingers along his newly acquired scar and, despite having already stopped bleeding, the action caused a flash of exquisite pain as the still raw flesh was agitated by the digits.

Roman chuckled, cracking open one blue eye to pin Victor with his gaze.

“I cut you, you blow me, and I get the thanks? Baby, you’re a revelation!”

The slightest hoarseness was present in Romans’ voice and it send a fresh wave of arousal through Victor to realise that he was the one to put it there. An arousal which spiked as Romans’ hot breath made itself known against his ear.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.”

A noise of approval escaped Victors’ lips as Romans’ soft hands, so different from his own, came to rest on his scarred hip as Roman turned towards him.

“Think you can get it up again?” Victor teased, knowing that Roman would be unable to resist rising to the bait as he was challenged, “I was promised a _fuck_.”

“A fucking revelation.” Roman repeated, sliding his hand along Victors’ stomach and taking great care to avoid any direct contact with his tent of his cock. “Take them,” he pointed to the boxers, “off.”

In the blink of an eye, Victor had removed his own boxers and had discarded them somewhere on the dark carpeting.

Eyeing him with a predatory look, Roman was delighted to note the patch of dark hair on Victors’ groin. He knew that Victor had a great preference for bleaching his hair blonde but Roman had come to appreciate the stark contrast with the rest of his body, a contrast only he was allowed to experience.

Allowing his sense of possession to run rampant, Roman fisted his semi-hard length to harden it further while Victor fumbled in the bedside cabinet for the bottle of lube and a condom. Despite their unspoken monogamy, which stood as an understanding that if either found the other in bed with a third party they would slit the unsuspecting bastards throat before they could blink, Roman always insisted on using a rubber.

Victor had never seen the need to question it and he passed both the condom and the lube over to Roman and took position on his back, the silk of the sheets providing a welcome texture against his warm skin.

Lifting his ass to allow Roman to slip a pillow under his ass, Victor watched keenly as Roman took his own position kneeling between his spread legs. He jumped as a cold wetness pressed against his hole and he received a cocked eyebrow for his reaction.

“Just do it.” He muttered, embarrassed at the slip but too turned on to want to dwell on it.

At his insistence, Roman spread the lube around to warm it up slightly before slipping his finger inside, basking in the slight gasp which the action drew from the assassin. Quickly following with a second finger, Roman started to stretch Victor out roughly as he gave him what he knew he wanted.

“Need another one, baby?” Roman gave a wolfish grin as Victor pushed back on his fingers, attempting to greedily take more than was being offered.

“Just fuck me!” Victor hissed, the heel of his left foot stabbing impatiently at Romans’ shoulder to encourage him. “Please, Roman.”

“So fucking filthy.” Roman purred, adding a little extra lube to the end of his cock and lining it up as he added, “Scream for me, baby.”

Slamming his hips forward, Roman was rewarded with a guttural grunt as Victor convulsed beneath him. His movement caused the scarring which covered his entire body to catch in the light for just a moment and Roman repeated the move to make it happen again, fascinated by the spectacle.

“Look at me!” Thrusting without mercy and knowing that Victor could take anything he gave, Roman held nothing back as he continued his insatiable assault. “Look at me!” He repeated.

Victor followed his demand, never failing to meet every punishing thrust with enthusiasm, as he met the intensity of Romans’ blue eyes with a lidded gaze.

Roman was fascinated with Victors’ gaze. Its clinical detachedness when he was working showcased the void which lived within him. Cold, sadistic, and unyielding; more people than he could count had been met with that gaze as the gurgled their last until their hearts finally stopped. But it was not always like that. Sometimes, when their eyes met, the faintest flicker of _something_ would flash through the brown and it always sent a thrill of elation down his spine.

He was certain Victor loved him; in whatever twisted way the other man understood the emotion.

Victor would always look out for him. Kill for him. Buy him a fucking carpet if asked.

No one else could be depended on like Victor could.

No one else _cared_.

Roman thought he might love him.

In some twisted way.

Keeping up his unforgiving pace, he could feel Victor tighten around his cock and he knew it was time for a flourish.

Buried to the hilt, Roman wrapped one hand around Victors’ cock while his other came to rest atop the fresh scar he had carved into the assassin, his sharp fingernails digging in to the cut with a ferocious relish as he watched the torrid mixture of pain and pleasure flash through Victors’ expression.

The combination of sensations, from his stuffed ass to the wonderful things Romans’ talented hand was doing to his cock to the sharp sting of pain from his punished wound, proved to be too much and Victor felt his orgasm hit as he released a tortured whine.

Rutting against him as he came, Roman was quick to follow with his own release as his hand left Victors’ cock and gripped at his firm hip harshly enough to dent the skin and, most likely litter the area with fingerprint-shaped bruises.

Absolutely spent, Roman reluctantly pulled out of Victor and collapsed on the bed next to him; only pausing to sit up and slip off the condom and drop it on the bedside cabinet to be disposed of later. At his side, Victor stretched out his legs, his left knee making a satisfying pop, as he relaxed once again into the bedsheets thoroughly satisfied.

“I think I need a fucking cigarette.” Roman groaned, falling onto his back and snaking his arm beneath Victors’ neck in order to pull the assassin flush against his side. “

“Do you want them over?” Victor offered, eyeing up the cigarette pack which had been left on the vanity table at the other side of the room.

“Nah.” Roman waved them off with a flippant gesture. “I would fucking kill for another martini though.” He added as a not-so-subtle hint.

“Sure, boss.”

Slipping off the bed with ease, Victor padded along the carpet, his naked body fully exposed, to the small table which served as a makeshift bar within the expansive bedroom. Setting a glass on the table, it was quickly filled as Victor concocted Romans’ preferred style of martini with a practised ease.

Watching him work, Roman had the perfect view of the fresh scar which decorated his chest and the events of the evening had gone to show that the location was perfect.

Just above the heart.

Fucking romantic.


End file.
